


No Need For Champagne

by Deepdarkwaters



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Blow Jobs, Clothed Sex, Come Shot, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mentor/Protégé, Porn with Feelings, Thank God We're Alive Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-22 18:23:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14314500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deepdarkwaters/pseuds/Deepdarkwaters
Summary: "There's no need for champagne, we've got loads on the plane," Merlin tells Eggsy, but it's not champagne he finds in the cabinet for their victory toast, it's his favourite Macallan - because saving the world, even at a cost he can't quite bring himself to imagine just yet, calls for more than the swill you drink at weddings.Not that it matters anyway, since he abandons both glasses he poured when Eggsy strides through the plane doorway with his chest heaving like some damsel in one of the tacky bodice-ripper novels Harry used to read when he was convalescing after injuries. He stares hungrily for a moment as if Merlin's an elaborately garnished kebab after a long night out drinking, and Merlin has just enough time to think with a sort of diamond clarityoh good lordbefore Eggsy's launching across the cabin to kiss him.





	No Need For Champagne

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Morbane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morbane/gifts).
  * Translation into 中文 available: [【翻譯】不需要香檳 No Need For Champagne](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14478198) by [sandykill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sandykill/pseuds/sandykill)



"There's no need for champagne, we've got loads on the plane," Merlin tells Eggsy, but it's not champagne he finds in the cabinet for their victory toast, it's his favourite Macallan - because saving the world, even at a cost he can't quite bring himself to imagine just yet, calls for more than the swill you drink at weddings.

Not that it matters anyway, since he abandons both glasses he poured when Eggsy strides through the plane doorway with his chest heaving like some damsel in one of the tacky bodice-ripper novels Harry used to read when he was convalescing after injuries. He stares hungrily for a moment as if Merlin's an elaborately garnished kebab after a long night out drinking, and Merlin has just enough time to think with a sort of diamond clarity _oh good lord_ before Eggsy's launching across the cabin to kiss him.

He's stunned, of course, though not so much that he doesn't give himself up to it immediately: his hands find Eggsy's face, palms pressed to the razor's edge of his jawline to tilt him upwards, fingers sliding through the back of Eggsy's hair where it's still slick with sweat from his fight. Merlin feels a sound against his mouth more than hears it, a mumbling sort of moan of pleasure even as the cut on Eggsy's lip is smearing blood around both of their mouths.

"My heart's going fucking nuts," Eggsy says clumsily against Merlin's chin and mouth and cheek, trying to speak and kiss at the same time. "Drumrolling like a bastard. I shoulda asked first, but - I mean, I seen you eyeing me up when I put my suit on. This is alright, yeah?"

"Alright?" Merlin echoes, and kind of wants to laugh incredulously but finds he doesn't have the breath for it so he snatches both pairs of glasses off their faces and swings Eggsy around to the side instead to shove him against the closed cockpit doorway and completely fucking ravage his mouth again, bleeding lip and all, in a way he probably hasn't done with anyone since he was about Eggsy's age himself - because it's hardly an everyday occurrence, this, having a stupidly handsome twentysomething fling himself at you with no prior warning, and he'd have to be dead to turn it down. Thankfully he's not, though it did look a bit hairy for a while there.

Eggsy kisses exactly the way Merlin might have imagined he would had he ever actually let himself think about it before: enthusiastic, brazen, no finesse, gorgeous. He doesn't seem to know what to do with his hands, which are shaking besides, and ends up with them pressed to Merlin's front in between them as if he needs to steady himself. Merlin feels Eggsy's fingers tugging gently at his tie and curling around the edges of his lapels, one thumb circling a shirt button with a curious sort of hesitance given the ferocity of his mouth.

"Eggsy," Merlin says into the kiss. Even as he says it he's not quite sure where he means to go with it after - _are you okay, are you sure, is this wise, do you want a nice cup of tea and a paracetamol and a lie down_ \- but it doesn't matter anyway because Eggsy shakes his head insistently and slides both hands down Merlin's body and around his hips to clutch at his backside and drag him in. Pressed this close Merlin can feel the thickened line of Eggsy's cock behind his beautifully tailored trousers and an entirely involuntary noise escapes him, a sighing sort of plea that might be borderline embarrassing if Eggsy weren't whimpering in his ear at the pressure. By the time Merlin's hands leave his face and move down to wriggle in between their bodies to find the buttons at Eggsy's fly and the heat of his thrumming cock below, it's more like moaning, half stuck in his throat and coming out impatient and hoarse.

"Harry warned me," Eggsy says, breathless and trembling, when Merlin stops kissing him to glance down at the buttons, "he said it happens to everyone now and then like adrenaline or something, you're fighting then you're safe but your dick ain't caught up with your brain yet so when it does it's all at once like a fucking drug rush and you feel like you just gotta get off or you're gonna die anyway, but"--he breaks off with a stunned little groan when Merlin slips inside the slit of his boxers with two fingertips. "Merlin, _fuck_."

"Hm?" Merlin murmurs with his mouth on Eggsy's cheekbone, fingers still stroking gently, a bit awkwardly, through the silk. Thinking about Harry now he's gone is a minefield he's going to have to approach very slowly and carefully, not stampede into before he's ready, so he focuses instead on Eggsy's waistband: shimmying the flawless fit down over the curves of his hip bones and spectacular arse and taking his boxers with it so that Eggsy's cock, thick and flushed and fucking gorgeous, can fill the palm of Merlin's hand. "Are you swearing or requesting?"

"Oh my god. Both? Let me... can I..."

Words fail him and he shoves instead, steering Merlin back towards the nearest chair and dropping to his knees in front of him with an unconscious sort of liquid grace, a gymnast's grace, the same incredible way he moved when he was fighting the woman with swords for legs. Getting Merlin's trousers open is a different matter. Eggsy seems all thumbs and struggles for a while to get the fly undone until Merlin does it for him - then he laughs, partly at himself for being incompetent and partly with a sort of absurdly flattering amazement, his pretty green eyes opening wide in a way that looks far too delighted and amused for a trained spy who just slaughtered an entire underground lair's worth of villains with a violent panache so flawlessly slick that it almost looked like a ballet.

"Oh my _god_ ," he says again, a different inflection to it, and turns those laughing doe-eyes up from his place on the plane carpet in between Merlin's knees. "Now I get why you walk round the place like you own the whole fucking world." His mouth's there before Merlin can tell him to shut up and get on with it, plush pink lips with a smear of blood still at the corner opening and his tongue coming out to touch the underside of Merlin's cock with a timidness that's unexpected after the gleeful, wanton way he kisses.

Now Merlin's the one who doesn't know what to do with his hands, tightening his fingers around the chair arms because he's not sure whether Eggsy's the kind of person who appreciates a good tug on the hair during a blowjob the way he himself did in his youth when he had a bouffant that would shame Nick Rhodes. It's a concern that vanishes into the ether fairly sharpish - Eggsy's climbing confidence is just as glorious a thing to watch as the act itself, and when Merlin drives his fingers hard into the dirty dried-sweat rat tails to urge him into a faster rhythm Eggsy moans around him greedily, the vibrations of it rumbling up and down Merlin's cock and right into the fucking core of his soul. He watches, half-stunned and riveted: Eggsy's eyes are closed and his face flushed pink in a band below his eyes like some bloody anime character come to life, cheekbones looking as sharp as daggers from this high angle, and his hot mouth is dripping spit from the corners, his lips red with friction and blood from the cut that'll never heal while he's rubbing it all over a dick.

"I'm gonna come," Eggsy says, more like gasps, releasing Merlin's cock from his mouth so he can speak but still stroking roughly with a squeeze and twist at the tip exactly the way he's figured out Merlin likes.

" _You're_ gonna come?" Merlin says, a breathless little laugh hovering behind his words and Eggsy grins up at him, his scarred eyebrow raising in a lascivious sort of way that Merlin thinks he's probably going to remember at inopportune moments every day until he dies.

"Been gagging for a go on your dick since you told me to whisper in your ear that time, I gotta be honest."

"You could've just asked, you didn't have to wait for the end of the world."

The grin falters very slightly at that and Eggsy puts his mouth back to work. Merlin wonders how much of this is about holding off the moment Eggsy's going to have to start processing losing Harry and how much is because he truly wants to. Thinks it's probably about fifty-fifty, and that's a split he can live with because it feels about the same for himself as well.

"Don't come," he says, keeping his voice low and quiet because he doesn't want it to crack and tremble. With his hands still twisted in Eggsy's hair he can feel him shudder at the request and the hot wet clench of Eggsy swallowing convulsively around his cock, then the careful motion of his head nodding when he pulls up to suck messily at just the tip with drool streaming down over his stroking fist. Merlin wishes he hadn't taken his glasses off now; he wants to keep this vision password protected and saved forever on a server somewhere.

"Will you?" Eggsy asks, swiping the spit and precome off his chin with his free palm. Merlin doesn't confirm as such, though he's thrumming with the effort to hold back just a moment longer; instead he reaches into his jacket pocket for his handkerchief and offers it to Eggsy, who looks at it blankly like he's never seen one before.

"Hope you ain't telling me you wanna use a fancy jizz rag when you got my face right fucking here." His tongue makes contact again, swiping rough and wet under the head of Merlin's cock while his filthy wet fingers slide down to squeeze him until Merlin's limbs all feel like a mess of pins and needles. "You gotta come on me," he murmurs. His reddened mouth barely lifts off enough to speak, and his eyes are fierce and urgent and almost defiant on Merlin's like he thinks he might be denied and is prepared to fucking fight for it. "I want it, gimme it. You gonna come? Give it me, I wanna fucking feel you on me--"

Merlin comes into Eggsy's mouth then, uncontrollably and gasping, giddy with it and squeezing his eyes shut tight against the rush of heat rocketing through him and then opening them in something fairly close to panic, not wanting to deprive himself of Eggsy's face for even a second longer than necessary: the flush under his eyes and the gleam of sweat on his forehead, something almost triumphant in his expression now, the deep dimples notched into his cheeks by his smile, and how Merlin can see a pearly white drip of his come glistening, lingering, on Eggsy's lower lip before the weight of one droplet becomes too much for itself and it slides, sticky and languorous, down his chin.

"Posh blokes," Eggsy says, fake-disapprovingly even as he's gliding his fist on Merlin's soaked cock, drawing out the last few shudders and spurts to land on his cheek and his swollen, filthy mouth. "Scared of getting dirty. You're missing out."

He seems like he'd want to take that back moments later if he could only find the breath, when he's standing over the chair bracing himself on shaking arms against Merlin's shoulders while Merlin holds the silk handkerchief draped across his palm under Eggsy's cock and strokes him through the wet slither of the fabric. "What the fuck," he keeps muttering, "what the actual fuck, Merlin," and when he comes it wrenches a noise like a combined sob and appalled giggle out of his throat as he soaks the handkerchief through and half-collapses back to his knees in front of the chair. Merlin follows him all the way down with his hand still sliding and clenching around the silk swaddling him until the horrified laughter morphs back to a shuddering moan. He stills then, sweaty forehead resting against Merlin's jacket sleeve and his chest heaving again the way it had been doing when he first got back to the plane after his fight. "Fucking posh perverts. They teach you that trick at Eton?"

Merlin slides Eggsy's clean handkerchief out of his pocket and uses it to wipe the worst of the drying smears of come off his flushed face, then wraps his own drenched handkerchief in it and tucks it back inside his jacket to dispose of later. "I went to a local comp in Dunfermline. Had to figure that one out for myself when I got a job wearing suits us council estate kids would need a mortgage just to dry clean, never mind buy in the first place."

"Pretty much destroyed this one, hey?" Eggsy says, suddenly subdued. He sits back on his heels, fingers going up to touch the ragged remains of his slashed tie.

"I know it'll never be the same, but you can have as many as you want," Merlin tells him, and wishes desperately there was more he could offer: the world, the stars, a time machine, Harry back. "Galahad."

"Don't." Eggsy doesn't even look at him for a moment, and when he does there's the gleam of tears just starting to cling to the lower lashes of his exhausted eyes, not enough to spill. "I want the job, but not that name."

"I can't imagine there's anybody in the world he'd rather pass it on to."

" _Don't_ ," Eggsy says again, and again he seems suddenly awkward like he doesn't know where to put his hands. They go up around Merlin's neck after a moment, and Merlin slides to the very edge of his seat to wrap his arms around Eggsy's body and hold him tight against his chest, feeling Eggsy's wet ragged breathing against the side of his face until he gets himself under control.

"Okay?" Merlin checks quietly, and and feels the brush of Eggsy's hair on his neck when he nods.

"Okay."

"Good."

"I fucking can't believe we pulled that off, guv." He's laughing quietly now, exhilarated and half-dazed, and Merlin feels an alarming pang of desire not only to fuck him until he screams but actually to look after him a bit, hustle him into a pair of the pyjamas in the plane wardrobe and fold out the bed for him and make him sleep until he stops trembling. "I mean, like"--Eggsy waves his hand vaguely in the air to indicate _all this averted apocalyptic bollocks_ \--"that out there, not you trashing my face. Always knew that bit was gonna be pretty fucking mint."

"Presumptuous little shit," Merlin tells him severely, but his thumb swiping Eggsy's sticky lower lip is gentle and makes him smile, incandescent and maybe a little bit hopeful, unless that part's just Merlin being an optimistic old fool. "I called for backup to help take the prisoners home, they'll be here soon. Let's get to work."

"Kiss me first," Eggsy says, and though there's still laughter in his eyes there's something about his tone that sounds absolutely serious, kind of unsure of himself. It's a strange sort of seesaw balance between his perpetual mask of don't-give-a-fuck and everything he's hiding below, and maybe he's aware of it because his voice turns cocky and sly before Merlin even gets a chance to comply. "Come here and whisper in my ear."

"That was supposed to terrorise you," Merlin reminds him, gently sorting out the tangled sweaty threads of hair flopping over Eggsy's forehead, "not turn you on."

"Yeah, well, shit happens." Eggsy bats Merlin's hand away and leans in, not for the kiss Merlin expects but to breathe softly right beside his ear, "You're _fucking spectacular_ ," in a mocking Scottish accent that would probably be mildly offensive if it didn't make a flood of goosebumps roar like a wave up the entire length of Merlin's spine.

*

"There's actually a lot less blood out there than I was expecting," Roxy says when she gets to the doorway, carefully whacking the sides of her boots against the top step to dislodge the snow caked there. "I think the explosions must have cauterised the stumps or something. Horrible smell of barbecue though, I'm starving."

She glances at them properly then for the first time, Eggsy to Merlin and back again, and Merlin thinks he sees the briefest narrowing of her eyes and the whirring clockwork in her magnificent brain even though they're both spotlessly clean now, wearing bland expressions, and sitting at opposite ends of the cabin with drinks in their hands. There's a reason she won the title. Nothing gets past her.

"Where should I sit?" she asks politely, unmistakably really meaning _your business is your business but I won't sit where you've just been having some kind of ridiculous victory sex while I hiked through the Arctic to get back here._

"Over here," Eggsy tells her, gesturing to the place opposite him, and she steals his whisky on the way to her seat which is probably less than they both deserve.


End file.
